A Beast Without Equal
by shadowfox97
Summary: A young Madara's first mission outside the compound leads to an encounter with the strangest human being he will ever meet; a supposedly non-threatening girl he was sent to capture. As he attempts to find out more about their target, he finds out that she might not be as harmless as she first appears.
1. Chapter 1

_I_

A _Beast Without Equal_

 _A Wolf Dressed in Sheep's Skin_

 _Central Fire Country, The Capital, Daimyo's Main Palace_

A young girl stood alone in a room, clothed in petal-soft cotton and cool, gentle silk. With unusually pale skin and ashen blonde curls, she looked every part the regal royalty that she had been born into. A faint noise could be heard from outside the door; likely originating from one of the guards sent to look after her. The girl turned round to face the general direction from which the noise came from. She frowned, an unnatural look on such a young, youthful face still full of puppy fat and blessed with red, flushed cheeks.

"I wonder why you never talk to me, perhaps on orders?" She asked, not expecting an answer. She only ever voiced her questions when she was afraid of forgetting the sound of her voice; a dreadful prospect to anyone. A sigh escaped the blonde as she tugged her only companion, a stuffed teddy with a softness equal to everything else she owned, closer to her before jumping onto a desk conveniently placed next to the only window in the room. She tugged open the gauze curtains, curling the flimsy material around her chubby fingers as she was granted with the view of the dark and starless night sky: The only source of light came from the moon, larger than she had ever remembered seeing it before, the girl felt the moon pulling at her, urging her on to her feet and closer to its all-encompassing circumference, she felt its want to embrace her small frame and caress her pale locks, to let its light taint the blonde curls silver.

A blink of her eyes broke the spell, jerking back from the window she quickly threw the curtains back together; a thin, near useless protection from the moon's effect.

A deep breath soon followed her hasty escape. "How strange." She muttered, gazing back at the moon faintly visible from behind the curtains, the material distorting its visage into something vague and ominous; like the devil masquerading as an angel. The comparison made the little girl smile wistfully, hugging her toy tighter to her body.

" _You're nothing like you were before_." She whispered in a language unknown to this world, peeking at the hidden celestial body between the gaps in the gauze. "Nothing like the moon I know."

She laughed abruptly, the sound so loud that it managed to rouse the guard that had slipped into sleep outside her door. She heard him as he fiddled with the handle, watching as the metal knob turned hazardously before a hulking man entered the room with heavy steps and little grace. The girl basked in the guard's incompetence as his eyes locked onto her frame, looking but not seeing.

"You gave me a fright there princess." He bowed slightly, eyes locked onto the floor.

"It's alright, you were just worried." The girl conceded, speaking in the common tongue. She knew the odd nuances in her speech would be contributed to her young age.

The guard stared at the girl a moment longer before shaking his head and exiting the room, muttering about silly young girls, confident that she wouldn't hear him. She smiled at the sound of his armour clicking together as he walked down the hallway, still audible even after he closed her bedroom door behind him.

000

 _West Fire Country, Uchiha District_

Madara watched as his cousin lifted his old, worn sword. He stared at the blade, inspecting it with a critical eye: its edges dulled, under sides scratched by only god knows what torturous schemes and the fabric of the hilt stained by the blood and sweat of those who had wielded it.

It would just not do.

"I don't want that scrap piece of metal Ryouta!" He cried, arms crossed. "Look at it! It's been ruined by your rough handling."

Madara's older cousin raised an eyebrow at his younger, ill-tempered family member. He raised the blade in question, inspecting its worn state. "Perhaps you are right." He admitted, his eyes still on the sword. "But we are currently fighting a war and wars need funding; fundings which are fuelled by money taken from other funds." Without warning he hit the sword against a nearby training post, leaving Madara speechless as the dulled sword, while not cutting the wood as easily as a knife through butter, managed to take a chunk out of the hardy material. "Funds such as those used for our weaponry for instance, we have limited money for forging specialised weapons at the moment and the demand is high; so it would be best to take what you can get and remember that weapons do not have to be sharp for an enemy to be delt a fatal blow."

The man held out the blade, which Madara took after a second of hesitation. He reluctantly tied the sword to his waist.

"And what use do you even have for such a weapon?" Ryouta asked, crossing his arms in a pose similar to his younger brethren. "I know you have not trained your sword technique in months and yet you want to start carrying a blade around?"

"Father has finally let me go on a mission!" Madara admitted, unable to curb his excitement as a smile burst forth from his lips. "And I must be ready for everything mustn't I? That includes sword battles."

"I don't know quite what you are expecting for your first mission," The man started, dubious. "But my own was a little less exciting; I had to clean our clan's armoury from top to bottom."

"How long did that take you?" The boy whispered.

"A week." He pulled a face, the memory alone enough to sour his mood. " I was basically nothing more than a glorified servant."

"And I have this to look forward to?" The idea of cleaning didn't appeal to him.

"Unfortunately." His cousin answered before moving the younger boy along with a firm grip on his shoulders. "Now, let's deliver you to Uncle; I'm sure Izuna and Auntie are with him and you never see them as often as you should."

"Hey!" Madara shouted, grounding his feet into ground in protest at the rough treatment. "I will go to father by myself; there is need to come with me as if I would run away!""There's plenty reason." He answered. "For instance I tried to run away after I had learned of my fate and once your father found out I was caught and made to clean out the bath house." He smirked as he felt his younger cousin go slack in his hold; he had won that round.

000

 _Central Fire Country, The Capital, Daimyo's Main Palace_

"Princess." A vaguely familiar voice called out from behind her. She turned to face the owner of the voice: a court official dressed in silly robes and wearing an obscenely curly wig. The girl held in a giggle at the sight of him. "Yes, what is it Mr Magistrate?"

"Your greatly esteemed Father and Mother have granted me the privilege of delivering a message to you."

She rolled her eyes before collapsing down into a chair, slouching across its frame as she studied the intricacies woven into the sleeves of the robes she was wearing. She picked at the expertly weaved flowers and colourful birds. "What do they want?" She asked, not looking at the man.

She watched from the corner of her eye as the official flinched at her nonchalance and blatant disrespect; she observed his eyes widen from shock and the way his wig started to fall off his bald head from his fast, jerky movements. His face finally settled into a look of insult, with an upturned lip and furrowed brow. The princess greedily drunk in the sight beheld to her, like a vampire acquiring the life blood on which it thrived.

She smirked, satisfied at the unwilling gift. "Well go on, I'm listening."

The magistrate seemed to shake off any lingering shock and disgust as he dove into the regurgitated speech from her parents.

"You may not know, but there is currently a war raging on outside these walls; caused by-"

"I do not care about the cause of any war." She interrupted, still picking at her sleeves. "Only what such a barbaric event has to do with myself."

"- the war will encroach near the palace, too near." He carried on without missing a beat after her rude interruption; he made a smooth recovery, she'd give him that. "Your esteemed father and mother have declared that you are to be moved to another palace, one that is far away from the current battlefield."

She turned her eyes away from her sleeves, regarding him silently as she tried to guess what effects her departure from the palace would have on the general runnings of the castle. "When do I leave?"

"Tonight princess."

"Oh goodie!" She proclaimed loudly, smiling and bubbly as she jumped up from her chair. She held its arms as she twirled around the object, blonde ringlets hitting her cheeks as they bounced around from her movements. She grinned at the court official, who looked uncomfortable at such a rapid change of demeanour. "Let us go prepare for our travels!" The girl exclaimed before running for the door, giggling and spinning playfully around the room as she did so.

000

 _West Fire Country, Uchiha District_

"I beg your pardon Uncle but Madara is only eleven, perhaps a mission such as this is too difficult for a first-"

"Perhaps but it would be more useful than not to have him on this particular mission, the target is around his age and will be more likely to trust him than us." Tajima Uchiha, Head of the esteemed Uchiha Clan, Madara's father and Ryouta's uncle, stated as he signed an official document. Madara caught a glimpse of the heading, it was titled 'The Upkeep of the Uchiha trade routes located in South Fire Country'. How boring.

"But Uncle-"

"Ryouta!" The Clan Head shouted, making his nephew halt. He was known to have a temper when challenged. "Know your place."

His nephew backed down without a word, resulting in an awkward atmosphere with an uncomfortable Madara, a cowed Ryouta and a seething Clan Head. Madara's silent mother, who was sitting beside her husband, bounced his youngest brother Izuna on her lap.

"What does the mission entail father?" Madara asked, keen to dissipate the tension building up in the room.

The man looked up from his paperwork to look at his eldest son. He took second to stare before breaking eye contact, dipping his brush into an ink pot. " As you know, we are at war with the Senju clan. We know the Senju clan have allied with the Fire Daimyo, while we in turn have allied ourselves with the Lightening Daimyo. In order to weaken the Senju we need to be able to break that alliance. If we take a hostage it will hopefully pressure them into breaking the alliance off."

"Who's the target?" Ryouta asked, gaining back his confidence.

"The Fire Daimyo's daughter." He answered as he continued writing. " A harmless target with high value."

"Are you expecting to acquire her easily?"

"Of course not, the Senju and Fire Daimyo are not imbeciles; far from it. They will want to send her far away from the ensuing chaos where she will be hard to catch; but children are children and will always be too trusting when it comes to strangers." He turned towards his youngest son, observing the child as he gurgled and drooled, his mother patted his back gently in maternal comfort.

"You are to gain her trust Madara, even though she is young she is important enough to become a political ally. It will be beneficial to say the least if she is on our side."

His eldest son nodded, proud that he was given such an impoetant task to complete.

"That's all." He finally ended the debrief. "The other Uchiha I will send on the mission will give you further details while you travel. Meet them tomorrow at the compound gates when the sun first rises."

"Yes Father." Madara answered, bowing slightly before exiting the room with his cousin; who looked worse for wear and very angry at the way the situation had played out.

"I am still of the opinion that you are too young for such a mission." His cousin ranted as soon as they were out of earshot of the Clan Head. "So many things could go wrong- you will be deep in enemy territory, with Senju soldiers crawling all around you-"

"Ryouta." Madara interrupted once it was apparent that his cousin was getting too worked up about possible outcomes. "I'll be fine, Father would not have sent me if he thought that this mission was going to be too difficult for me."

"But it will be dangerous, you could be killed-"

"Well, I don't care!" Madara shouted. "I will go on this mission, complete it and come back without any injuries what so ever! Just you wait and see!" He ran away towards his lodgings, determined to prove his worried cousin wrong.

Ryouta just watched the younger boy's back as he walked further and further away, knowing that his cousin would have to learn how just wrong he was through experience and nothing else.

000

Dawn was approaching fast when Madara arrived at the gates of the compound, the sleep crusted around his eyes and the slouch in his back indicated he hadn't had much sleep.

"Well looks who's here." A man adjacent to him greeted with a smile on his face. "Its the prince of the compound himself; the great Madara Uchiha."

"I'm no prince." He grumbled, already pinning the man down as someone who liked to poke and prod until his prey snapped: the type that liked leading the hazing rituals he had heard occured when young ninja entered these sorts of teams.

"Well you look like one to me with your fancy and proper clothing there: like a little lordling with the world at hand."

"Daisuke that's enough." A voice snapped, belonging to an older man: Madara assumed he was the one leading the mission. "Save your hazing for later: its too early in the morning for that shit."

"Speak for yourself you old coot." Daisuke hissed.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

"Good, and now," The older man turned towards Madara. "It will just be the three of us: no need to send a whole platoon when the tactic is to mainly use stealth. We have information that the princess is being escorted to this palace here." He got out a map of the Elemental Nations and pointed to a cross marked out on the edges of the territory inked as being that of the Fire Country. "They will be travelling at a civilian pace: a snail's pace compared to our own which should mean we will catch up with them within two to three days." He rolled the map back up and slip the paper into the sack slung across his shoulder. "When we eventually reach them we will assess their structure, the surroundings and their protections before deciding how to take the girl. Got it kid?"

Madara nodded, understanding the plan of action.

"You?" he turned to Daisuke, who pulled a face before he too nodded.

"Good, lets get a move on then shall we?" The leader leapt away in the direction of the rising sun, closely followed by his younger subordinates.

000

 _Fire Country, Unknown Location_

The girl had been given an entourage of guards and officials to travel with her to the palace, along with a further four carriages filled with clothes and furniture for when they eventually arrived. The resulting madness meant that the travellers stuck out like a sore thumb if any thieves or highway men were to happen upon them. While they would be easily dealt with by the guards, the resulting blood shed and noise would act as a beacon; drawing all sorts of people's attentions, some of which the guards couldn't necessarily deal with.

In a nutshell, they might as well set a fire and draw all the thieving scum in with the smoke.

"Can I see a map?" The princess asked as she directed the horse she was riding around a particularly large, protruding root of a nearby tree. " To see where I will be staying in relation to the main palace?"

The guard travelling next to her reclined slightly on top of his own horse, reaching back to obtain a map from the bag hanging from the horse's back. Initially, it had been a pleasant surprise to find that the princess, who he was told had never ridden a horse before, was unusually good at riding horseback; showing confidence and footwork unusual but not unheard of in a first timer. After a few hours of travelling however, it became apparent that somebody had lied. He could see it in the way she was holding the reins, firm but not tight, how she moved in the saddle to convey to the horse where she wanted to go and the way she knew when the horse had performed a difficult manoeuvre and would stroke its sweat soaked neck in appreciation of its hard work. These were not the actions of a beginner, but rather a seasoned professional that found saddling and riding a horse as easy as walking. He wondered why someone would lie about the princess's full ability, unless it made her sound much too athletic for court and so the skill was played down.

She smiled as the guard held his hand out, curled up map in tow. "Ta." She thanked him with her unusual dialect, one he had never heard before. The girl rolled the map out, indicating with a free finger where she thought the palace was. "Is it here?"

"No princess." The guard answered, instead lifting his finger to point slightly east of her own finger. "There."

"And the main palace?" She asked, juggling her reins until they were both in one hand.

He pointed just off the centre of the fire country, his finger slightly southwards. "Here."

Her eyebrows raised in realisation. "Oh." She muttered before quickly rolling up the map, grabbing the reins with both hands she shouted. "Race me."

The princess then urged her horse into a gallop, the horse instantly complying with her demands. Its hooves pounded against the ground repeatedly as beast and rider shot off into the horizon. The guard watched as the girl laughed out right, keeping up with the horses stride without any visible struggle. It looked almost unnatural to see a such a young, small girl so relaxed controlling such a large beast: a hot blooded breed bred for war. It reminded him of his earlier conclusion; that she was no stranger to saddleback.

He then slowly urged his own horse into a faster pace, for who was he deny a princess? was what he told himself as he enjoyed the wind through his hair.

He enjoyed the activity so much that at the end of the day, when sky turned orange as the sun was setting and everyone had set up for camp, he forgot to ask for the map back.

000

The sky turned dark and the entourage soon turn in for supper, tying down tents and passing around the tough, knarled roots of a tuber plant which was to be their breakfast, lunch and supper for the week. Being edible raw and nonperishable for months it was a firm favourite for week long journeys such as these. It also meant that everyone eventually got sick of the plant and never ate it outside these journeys unless in dire straits.

The princess lay stationary amongst the plump cushions in her large tent, dyed a bold colour and embroidered with delicate designs; she wondered how long it would take the enemy to pick out her tent from all the others and finish her off.

"Six, seven seconds? Eight if I'm lucky." She sighed, turning to lie on her stomach. The girl rearranged the cushions and threw a fur throw over her to protect her from the night's chill. She withdrew the map she had more or less thieved from the otherwise distracted general; although she would admit he had been smarter than most. "I wonder what will tip them off first? The bold colour or the designs?" She continued talking to herself, noting in passing what a bad habit it had become. She drew her finger across the edges of the map, memorised by the feeling of paper across her skin.

"Well." She looked up towards the ceiling of her tent, the moon a visible, circular shape through the thin material. It was visible even against the light of the candle, as if it wanted the girl to see its shape. "Tell me where this individual you want me to meet resides."

Her finger jerked to a located just north east of her current location, which she had taken the initiative to mark along side the main palace once an opportunity presented itself.

"Ah, let's assume that we end up at this position with the travelling done tomorrow." She pointed just south of the spot her other finger was. "I can retire early to my tent and sneak out to that location. Sound."

She pushed the map away from her makeshift bed. Stretching languidly, the girl made herself comfortable, intent on getting a good night's sleep for the day ahead.

000

Madara shivered, snuggling into his large, woollen cloak and rubbing his gloved hands together, hoping the friction would generate some warmth admist the cooler climate of south east fire country. They had travelled with minimal breaks at full speed for three days and now they had happened upon what was obviously a large entourage from the fire court; and it was very unlikely that some officious noble decided he would parade through the wild forests of the fire country, leaving himself bare for all sorts to take their pickings.

"Head out and scout the area." The eldest Uchiha, who he had learned was called Eito, grumbled as he surveyed the scenery with a fully trained sharingan. Madara stared at the ruby orbs, memorised by the slowly turning tomoe and the way they shone despite the lack of light. "Come back in half an hour."

The boy examined the area around him: the travellers had settled amongst the trees, giving them some camouflage when compared with the wide open plains that stretched out to the north of him. There were no camp fires, no visible weaponry besides the usual katana on the guards; it reminded Madara of how care free the civilian people were, never afraid of the enemy slipping past every defence and slitting their throats in the privacy of their own home.

"Nothing too worrying?" He jumped when Daisuke appeared behind him, a wicked grin plastered on his face. "I saw some young ladies braving the cold river in just their undergarments: lucky me."

The youngest of the group pulled a face, lip curled and nostril flares in disgust. "You're so vulgar."

Daisuke's grin only grew bigger. "That's not what the ladies say I can assure you."

"Boys." Eito hissed, whacking both of their heads. Madara sucked in a pained yelp, lest he was heard by the princess's entourage and the mission was ruined.

"I'd put money on the princess being situated in that particular tent." Eito pointed over at the largest tent of them all. "It's also being guarded by three soldiers, a little distraction should take care of them."

The stalked closer to the tent in question, with the oldest of the group twisting his hands into the signs used for a small fire ninjutsu. Once completed he set the cloak of a drowsy guard alight, chosen for his close proximity to a lit torch. It a few seconds for the guard to notice, allowing the initially small flame to flare and grow until it begun to lick up the back of his knees. Starting to feel an unusual warm across his legs even under the protection of his clothes and thick cloak, the guard nonchalantly glanced over his back. Upon seeing the orange flames his eyes widened, he starting spewing profanities as he swiped at the fire, eventually taking his coat off and stomping on it in an effort to subdue the flames. The other guards, having heard the commotion, went over to investigate, leaving the tent's entrance momentarily unguarded.

"Now." Eito hissed quietly as they readied themselves, making their way inside the tent once they confirmed the guards were suitably distracted.

Once inside Madara looked around the temporary structure: noting how richly coloured throws and pillows adorned the ground so that the princess wouldn't have to feel the hard ground beneath her as she slept. He allowed himself to feel the material, soft and pleasant beneath his fingers.

"She's not here." Daisuke announced as he withdrew a throw from a protruding lump; surprised to find a few, purposefully placed pillows instead of the sleeping body of a little girl.

"Is this a ruse?" Madara asked as he peered at the empty bed. "Perhaps they knew we were coming?"

"Unlikely." Eito answered as he searched around them for any clue as to where the princess might be. "If that were the case the inside of this tent would be overflowing with those incompetent soldiers by now."

"Then where is she?!" Daisuke hissed.

The older Uchiha paid no attention to the young man's outburst, still looking around with his sharingan. "I don't know; but I have picked up a slight trace of a young, female chakra a short distance from here."

"Should we go investigate?" Madara piped up, excited about getting out of the hot, stuffy and enclosed tent.

"With this being an entourage consisting mostly of adult males, it is likely this is the princess's signature."

"What's with the face?" Daisuke asked rudely, noting the unpleasant look plastered on the man's features.

"Her chakra..." He stalled, unable to grasp the words to describe the sensations he was feeling. "It's not normal."

"Is she dangerous?"

He shook his head. "No it doesn't feel malicious." His hand started to curl around the hilt of his katana, raising it slightly from the scabbard tied to his belt. "But it is best to be on the safe side. Be prepared for anything to happen."

They disappeared into the night, the guards none the wiser of the intruders and their missing princess.

000

Although he would never admit it, Madara had expectations of the princess they were sent to capture.

Despite being of the ninja equivalent of royalty, the boy had never met any daimyo or their family members. He was curious (not excited, never excited) to meet this princess, he expected her to be a frail, elegant creature with an angelic face and dressed in the most elaborate and beautiful of clothing.

Needless to say, once he caught sight of her, his expectations fell short.

The princess was admittedly hard to find even with the sharingan, Eito had explained that her chakra was constantly shifting and stirring, constantly battling itself as if it were uncomfortable living beneath her skin, as if it didn't belong there. This inner turmoil changed her chakra signature continuously, which made it difficult to pinpoint exactly where she was. It took another painstakingly long two hours, Daisuke had taken delight in reminding them, to find her.

She was nothing like what Madara had expected.

The girl in front of him had a jaw too square and eyes too large to be called classically beautiful. Her hair fell haphazardly in her face in wild curls and her robes, which Madara could admit were the most elaborate and elegant robes he had ever laid his eyes upon, were frayed by catching on sharp branches and dirtied from walking through the mud.

She looked like a daughter of a disgraced noble woman dressing up in her mother's bitter memories.

"Come with us, Princess." Eito ordered, his face hardening as he encroached on the girl's space. The Princess, to Madara's astonishment, did not shy away in fear from the threat, instead she stared back at his team leader, her face relaxed, almost bored as looked him over; her eyes briefly flickered to the other males in the team, cataloging, assessing the situation in its entirety.

"Or what?" She asked confidently, mockingly petulant as she observed them with a raised eyebrow. Madara felt his blood boil.

"Or we will force you." Eito warned.

She tilted her head, allowing herself a moment's hesitation before deciding to take a step forward.

The princess let the older Uchiha to grab her arm and drag her towards them. Madara noticed the harsh grip, hard enough to bruise the skin hidden beneath the robes. He looked up from her arm, noting that she showed no hint of pain on her face.

"What the hell were you doing so far away from the camp?" Daisuke asked abruptly. Madara scowled, partially embarrassed that the princess would hear such coarse language when she was accustomed to the grandeur and veiled politeness of the court. He opened his mouth to scold his older teammate, consequences be damned, when the princess bet him to it.

"I came here to meet someone." She answered honestly.

Daisuke scrunched his brow, an unattractive look on his face. He didn't know why the princess would ever need to meet anyone out here in the middle of nowhere, Madara didn't know either.

"Did you meet them?" He found himself asking somewhat irrelevantly.

She smiled at him with her eyes closed. "I did; eventually. They took their time getting here."

Madara open his mouth again to ask more questions: who was she meeting? How did an untrained, young girl like her escape the watchful eyes of her guard and sneak off into the night? However his interrogation was interrupted by Eito. "I had enough of the chit chat for the now. The sooner we start to head back the quicker we will get back to the clan."

The leader pushed the girl towards the youngest team member, the questioning look on Madara's face lead Eito to elaborate. "Remember what you discussed with your father."

Ah. The boy remembered. Gain her trust, worm his way into her innermost thoughts.

He nodded and Eito smirked, letting go of the princess's arm before turning in the opposite direction, signalling them all to follow him.

At his retreating back, Madara caught a glimspe of the first unmoderated emotion he had seen from the princess spring across the girl's face. Irritation graced her childish features as she rubbed her arm, the exact spot Eito had been gripping.

Against his better judgement, he let a small smile slip across his face: so she did feel pain.

Her eyes flickered towards him, putting on her plain, emotionless facade as one does armour before a long, intense battle. It was like flipping a switch and the change was as quick as a blink of an eye.

"What's your name?" she asked.

"Huh." He blinked.

"Your name." She repeated, speaking slower. As if he were a toddler struggling to understand what was being said. "I didn't quite catch it before."

"Why would you need to catch anything?" He responded defensively.

His response seemed to annoy her and she opened her mouth to retaliate, but the last moment she seemed to stop herself, having realised something that went over Madara's head. The boy frowned, he wasn't used to being the oblivious one in any conversation.

However, he was surprised at her next words. "I'm sorry. It was a turn of phrase. I forgot that you wouldn't know what it means."

She didn't sound very apologetic. "My name is Madara." He answered, still frowning.

There was a moment of silence before "I once had a dog named Madara."

He felt his eye twitch, but decided to ignore the veiled insult. He was beyond this; if he could ignore Daisuke's taunts, he could ignore hers.

It then occurred to him that throughout the mission the girl had only been referred to as 'the girl', 'the princess', or 'The Daimyo's daughter'. He didn't even know her name.

"What is your name?"

She considered his question silently before answering. "Sera."

"Sera?" He had never heard that name before. The princess pronounced it differently, elongating the constants and shortening the vowels. "Not Sara?"

"It's definitely Sera.""What does your name mean?" He thought maybe the name was foreign.

The newly named Sera was silent for a second before a look of realisation came over her face, after which she promptly burst into laughter, deafening in its loudness and confusing in its absurdity. Madara worried that he was being left to deal with an insane princess.

"It means princess." She answered after she had recovered, still letting out the occasional giggle. "What a coincidence! I never even realised.."

"Madara!" The boy heard Eito warn from somewhere in front of them.

"We should start walking now." Madara ended the conversation, grabbing Sera's arm before jogging to catch up with Eito and Daisuke.

000

Hey there, I know there's probably a bunch of gramatical and spelling errors but I was on a roll, so to speak, and just wanted to get this out. I'm not really following canon that strictly, as you can probably guess.

Please review :), I'd very much appreciate it.


	2. Chapter 2

_II_

 _A Beast Without Equal_

 _This Kitten Has Claws_

It had been three days since they had captured the runaway princess. During that time, Madara and his team had come to an unsurprising conclusion: the girl was undoubtedly abnormal.

They had somewhat expected the princess to befit her station: having a personality spoilt rotten from all of her royal privileges and a temper unchecked by her elders. However, they founds themselves proven wrong when the princess didn't utter a protest at having to walk the journey all on her own feet; even when her feet were rubbed raw from the act. Even when water was sparse and food was dwindling, she never asked for more than her share, happy to go to bed with a half empty stomach. At night, when they had all settled down for a rest, she watched them silently, taking in their conversations with diligent ears and unwavering eyes.

However, it was Madara, who had persevered with befriending the strange girl (even though it was obvious by the amused expression on her face that she knew exactly what he was doing), who had gotten the best impression of the captured princess. He had found out quickly that she did not act her age, which according to Eito was a mere eight years (Madara had trouble believing it), and that in itself wasn't unusual: children, especially females, could display maturity beyond their years in the right circumstances.

What was unusual was that she she acted and behaved like an adult; without the naivety of a child but with all the cunning and manipulative skills of a person who had played other people for years. Personal information would be extracted from them by a guise of childish teasing, where she poked and prodded until the person nearly snapped. Using this technique she would feel a person out, know what made them tick, their wants, likes and dislikes etc. Madara only realised what she was doing when she sent Daisuke reeling on their second night together.

"I would expect such surroundings to be unworthy to a posh girlie like you." The teenager had mocked, a wicked grin on his face as his eyes locked on the princess. He had moved onto the young girl once it had become apparent all that Madara was going to do when teased was ignore him. He seemed to have pegged the girl as being weak and unused to harsh teasing; being a princess would have afforded her such luxuries.

"You seem to have an obsession with people born into a higher station than yourself." She replied, eyes closed as she dozed against a tree. "Do you perhaps have a poor upbringing?"

He reeled back, the conversation taking a turn in a direction he wasn't comfortable with. "I don't know what that's got to do with anything."

"Are you bitter about your roots? Where every day was a fight for something better?"

There was a second of silence as the teenager processed the question; his eyes narrowed, his hands clenching into fists as he struggled with a rush of emotion."Watch your tongue princess-"

"Don't worry I would be too. I mean who would want to be born a peasant? No money and no food; not to mention the illnesses-"

Daisuke had cocked his hand back ready to slap the impertinent child when Eito grabbed his hand at the possible last moment, the appendage mere millimetres away from the princess's face. The girl didn't even flinch, although she had open her eyes to regard the angry teenager with a surreal calmness. Madara saw her eyes flash at the raging visage before her, he thought she was not so weak (at least emotionally) as Daisuke supposed her to be: more like a wolf dressed as a harmless lamb.

"That's out of order Daisuke." Eito scolded, eyes burning as he released the now limp hand. "To allow yourself to be angered so much by a mere child is unacceptable!"

The teenager accepted the scolding with frown, rubbing his wrist where Eito had gripped him. In that moment only Madara looked at the princess: he watched her as she smirked, her half lidded eyes watching the scene she had created.

"It's not very smart to antagonise someone who could kill you very easily." Madara found himself advising, the princess turned to look at him with the same amused expression on her face, feeling no shame at being caught out.

"Sorry." She was still smirking.

"Well, don't do it again."

"Okay, I won't."

There was a few seconds of silence. Madara would later realise that the break in conversation was the princess contemplating how to phrase her next question.

"Daisuke lost someone precious to him, didn't he?"

"...Not just one." He replied reluctantly.

"Not one? His friends then, family even." He stood speechless as the girl answered her own questions with frightening accuracy. "To an illness?" She looked towards him.

"It's not my story to tell." He deflected, becoming more and more uncomfortable as she locked those ghostly grey eyes on him.

She blinked, the action catching his attention. He noticed how her long, blonde eyelashes stood out against her pale skin. "Yes." The princess conceded, leaning back from her hunched position, where she had been encroaching on his personal space. Madara didn't even realise that she had moved. "Yes you are right. But so am I."

She said it with such confidence that Madara doubted his protests (although they would be false if he had uttered them because she was correct) could sway her.

Another example which came to his mind was when they were walking through dense forest, the sun strong and beating down on them through the gaps in the leaves. It had been their first proper day together and they had not been so wise to her unusual intelligence, and had answered with the same loose mouths they would answer any eight year old who had too many questions.

"Where are you taking me?" It was one of the first question had ever directed towards the team. Madara had been glad that she had initiated conversation so soon, and could see himself closer to completing the task his father had set him.

"To our clan compound." He had answered quickly (eagerly), from his place beside her.

"Clan?"

"Yes, our clan: the Uchiha. We are the best ninja clan in the Elemental Nations."

"Bar none? at all?"

"...Yes." He hesitated for just a second, but the princess latched onto it.

"So no one else can match you? No other has the ability to draw your or your clansmen's blood?" She turned to look at him, expression emotionless yet searching. "You have never lost a person important to you through the actions of another?"

Madara looked away from her face, and found himself, against his will, reliving the bitter, painful memories which had previously laid undisturbed from their residence deep within the recesses of his mind. He remembered one of his younger brothers, only a mere five years old, who had been staying with his grandmother in a holdout miles away from the Uchiha compound. He remembered vividly the image of his mother wailing, early in her pregnancy with Izuna at time, when she heard news of the building being overthrown by a squad of Senju warriors, and how her mother and son had been cornered and slaughtered like cattle. There was no warning and the Uchiha involved had been taken completely by surprise.

The boy found his vision wavering as he was hit with an onslaught of unshed tears: the last time he had seen his younger brother had been just before he had left with his grandmother, clutching a teddy bear in his chubby arms as he was carried off and out the gate; waving his hand sluggishly in farewell.

He blinked, and his vision returned. He turned back to look at the girl who had been soaking up his reaction while he relived that horrible moment.

"No." He lied; he owed her no explanation, it had nothing to do with the fact that he felt he couldn't talk about it without choking on his words.

"I don't believe you."

Madara didn't answer her, he only continued on ahead of her, walking at a pace he knew she wouldn't be able to keep up with. He reassured himself, as he left Eito to tend to the girl, that he wasn't running away from her prying questions and all-too-knowing eyes.

He didn't sleep at all that third night, unable to stop thinking about the princess and the way she played Daisuke and himself. The girl had angered and prodded them until they hissed and spat and broke; laying all their secrets bare, ripe and juicy for the amused little girl to pick with conniving fingers and raging appetite. He could see that hunger in her eyes, that unquenchable thirst for upset and tension. There was no awkwardness, no sense of guilt over what she had done: like a wolf feeling no remorse for its unlucky prey. Madara felt his stomach drop.

He turned in his bed to look at the girl, who was sleeping in a cot adjacent to his own, and saw the way she curled around her pillow like a cat, titling her head so that the moonlight peeking through a small hole in the tent spilt onto her cheek. In a way it looked as though the moon had extended a hand to caress her cheek and see her softly to sleep. It looked motherly, nurturing even.

Madara shook his head before sharply turning onto his stomach, blocking out his surroundings: he really needed his sleep if his brain was spurning out poetic, fanciful mush.

The boy slept fine the night after that, although the moon's light (it was unusual see to the moon without the clouds obscuring it as often as he recently did) made it more difficult to slip into that dark, comforting abyss.

He took to staying away from her as much as he could after that, avoiding any interaction with the princess for fear that she might attempt to delve even deeper beneath his own exterior, breaking it irreparably in the process.

000

"Welcome to our compound." Tajima greeted coldly upon meeting the princess; the party had returned late in the evening and the fast approaching dusk set long, dark shadows across the halls of his office. The girl in question looked on at him, no fear or recognition flashed through her eyes, her shoulders were relaxed and back slouched in what could only described as an ill-bred manner. His eyes narrowed at the scene before turning his gaze towards the team he had sent to retrieve her: his son was tense and uncomfortable, the teenager had never looked at the princess once since arriving back and Eito, the eldest and most experienced, looked towards his leader with a tired expression, like he wanted nothing more than to go home and be rid of his younger brethren.

"Why am I here?" She asked directly, out of the corner of his eye he saw his son tense up further.

"You are here because I wanted you here." He wasn't in the routine of speaking to a child like they were an equal, and he wouldn't start now regardless of her station. The clan head saw steel flash through her grey gaze at his blatant disregard. She gave him a small smile, trying hard to hide her annoyance; but he wasn't the Clan Head by family succession alone.

"Then why do you want me here?"

"Because you are a political asset, one that may benefit me in the future."

"What makes you think that I have any meaningful importance?"

"You are the Fire Daimyo's Daughter-"

"-And not his only child." She cut the Clan Head off. "He has his son, his heir, at his side at all times when I've have always been kept far way and out of reach. What does that say of my importance in the grand scheme of things? What does that say of my father's regard for me?"

"Despite what you say you are still a princess by blood, and even if you are correct in your...assumptions... it would be poor conduct on behalf of your father to leave you to fall prey to the wolves lurking on the outskirts of his territory." He answered in more detail, straightening his back as he considered the princess more carefully than before. Her smile, as fake as it initially was, relaxed and widened into something more genuine. The girl's eyes flashed once more, this time in amusement as she tilted her head and reconsidered him as well. The head of the Uchiha clan tensed as he realised that she too was analysing him: it was an unnatural thing for a child so young to do. It was a trait akin to people who had seen the horrors of the world and humanity itself, becoming increasingly more distrusting of everyone and everything. "Besides, I would not make a habit out of downplaying your own importance; if I have no use for you I would have to dispose of you."

She seemed to have picked up on his harsh tone underneath the threatening words, something he usually took delight in hiding behind veiled works and blank expressions: his control was slipping. Her smile widened.

"I shall heed your advice, Uchiha-sama."

"Good." He replied gruffly, turning his attention back to the scrolls on his desk. "Madara." Out of the corner of his eye he saw his eldest son spring up to attention, always eager to please. "Lead her to one of the guest rooms, would you? I will sent guards there shortly to keep an eye on her."

The boy bowed before gently pushing the princess in the direction of the door, and before long they were out of sight.

"You are dismissed Daisuke." He ordered, noting how the teenager relaxed once the girl was out of the room. "I am sure your sister misses your company."

He too bowed, and exited the room with hurried steps. Eito was left standing in front of him, his expression even more grim than before.

Tajima sighed, hunching over his desk as he rubbed his eyes; he felt very tired at that particular moment. "Report."

Eito open his mouth, hesitating whilst he decided exactly what he was going to say. "Your son performed admirably, even when crossed by either Daisuke or the princess he displayed a maturity befitting of the clan heir. "

"Very well." He nodded, eyes stern and proud. "What of his fighting abilities?"

"They were not displayed Tajima-sama."

His eyes narrowed. "Why not?"

"Aside from stealth and tactical planning, nothing else was needed. The guards were normal palace guards and not Senju like we had feared. The girl had also escaped her tent on her own, we found her in the forest by herself."

"What do you mean?" He found it unlikely that an eight year old girl, untrained in the art of stealth, could leave a guarded tent unnoticed. "The guards were that easily fooled?"

"Yes and No. The guards were...incompetent by our standards; but the girl..."

"What about the girl?" Tajima encouraged the man.

"As you said in our debriefing, the Senju and Fire Daimyo are not imbeciles: they must have known that mere palace guards would not be enough to keep us away." He conceded after careful deliberation. "If they were seriously protecting her, they would have deployed Senju guards; and her chakra... its not normal."

"In what way?" He was curious to find out: Eito was one of the best sensors in the clan.

"Its shifting constantly, making it very corrosive to anything it touches." He answered, eyes closed as he tried to remember the feeling of the princess's chakra as he had called out to it. "I am surprised her body has not been damaged by its effects."

"So you are saying-" The Clan head spoke slowly, the implications were starting to give him a headache. "That there is something about the princess that we don't know? Something that the Fire Daimyo thinks is reason enough to essentially hand her over to us?"

"That she was intended to be caught by us? Then yes I think she was." He answered, looking over to the door both Madara and the princess had exited a few minutes prior. "She may even have been privy to the plan, given her lack of fear even when you threatened to kill her."

The Clan Head sighed again. "I think it best to keep an eye on her, I'll have Madara in her near vicinity for the next six months at least. In the mean time, you will strip through every book in the library, read through any scroll that may shed light on this abnormal chakra of hers: somewhere in the long history of ninja there must have been another like her."

Eito nodded his agreement. "Yes Tajima-sama."

When the leader of the mission eventually left the room, Tajima let his head fall into upturned hands. He sighed, rubbing his tired eyes as the day's events finally caught up to him. It was going to be an interesting few months, to say the least, but for now he was exhausted and needed his sleep. He looked outside his window at the night sky and watched as the last remaining tinges of orange dayligh was chased away by the fast approaching moon and it's army of dark, starless skies.

000

Sera took note of the room which she would be staying in for the duration of her stay. It was nothing special: blandly coloured and furnished with only the bare necessities. She wondered whether she would be restricted to this room, with nothing to do other than stare at the grey walls all day until she cracked from the boredom of it all.

It would do however. She wasn't fussed about its simplicity: she could conjure up her own entertainments. The girl smiled, turning to her guard/chaperone.

"What sort of bathing facilities do you have here?" She asked, watching as Madara spluttered and grew redder with every second that passed. Sera knew that it wasn'tnproper to ask a male about such a thing; but found that she didn't really care to wait until she happened upon a female, and she had not seen a single woman since she arrived at the compound. "I would kill for an onsen."

"Turn left once you exit this room and it is through the last door on your right." He answered once he managed to regather his wits. He turned around, grasping the handle of the door. She noted the way his fingers gripped the metal a little too strong: he was eager to leave her. "I shall leave you now and come back to escort you to breakfast in the morning."

"Very well; I will see you in the morning then." He nodded at her, his hand nearly ripping the door handle off in his haste to leave the room. She stifled a laugh as the door shut behind him.

Once he had gone the princess turned around and made her way over to the moderately sized window on the other side of the room. She gripped the ledges, peering closely to see if there was any evidence of the latches being movable. The girl's brow furrowed when she found none. She gave them an experimental tug, still the window did not move.

She frowned, there went a viable escape route.

"What next I wonder?" Sera spoke aloud, seemingly out of the blue and directed at no-one. The guards would not have hesitated to report this strange behaviour to their Clan Head if they had witnessed it, but the princess knew the guards would never hear nor see her when she was talking to this entity; they never had even when she was back at the palace. Their eyes would wonder past her and their ears would only catch the softest of breathes.

She moved her gaze to the bedside cabinet, the only placed where the moonlight seemed to reach in the dank little room, she peered at the window once more before walking towards the piece of furniture which had caught her attention. The cabinet was unassuming, having been built from cheap wood and worn down by age, it was easily overlooked in any ordinary situation . She opened the top drawer warily, intrigued but not surprised to see a wrapped up parchment lying inside the otherwise empty compartment. The princess untied the piece of string keeping the paper rolled up and let it unravel in her hands. Strange symbols written in a dark red liquid greeted her, to anyone else they would have made no sense: they did not belong to any written language anyone in the Elemental nations would know.

The princess grinned as her eyes scanned the paper, those people would be right in a sense: this language did not originate from the Elemental Nations.

Having finished reading the girl brought the parchment to her nose, sniffing the ink. She frowned, sniffing it again as if to confirm something.

"Blood?" She said, whether to herself or to something else was unknown. There was a period of silence, a moment of inner deliberation before she shrugged, ripping the parchment up into tiny shreds. She walked away from the drawers and back to the window, where she had a full view of the moon: a bright beacon against the dark night sky.

"I have so many questions." She started, staring at it, engaging with it as if it could understand her. "Nobody here notices the strangeness of the sky, I remember once years ago I asked one of my tutors 'Where are the stars? Why are there never any stars in the sky?'"

She took a break to swallow, which seemed to make her stomach grumble and contract in inner turmoil. Her eyes narrowed. "He answered that there have never been any stars for as long as there has been written history, that they are nothing more than a myth told to children frightened of the dark before they go to bed, and then he promptly asked where I had gotten such information. They had certainly never told me about them. But they are real, I used to see them every night back home, my real home, as real as the sun and the moon. But the moon here is different; at first I couldn't put my finger on just what it was, apart from those strange coincidences where the moonlight would change and catch my attention there were no other clues."

"I know now though." She continued, on a roll and unable to stop herself. "The moon from before was dead, a lifeless husk. Here it is alive. Not really a moon per say but something else all together."

She looked up at the thing disguised as a moon, bringing it a hand up to shield her eyes from its strong light. The princess clenched her fists, shaking from the thought of what could happen next. "What are you really?"

A voice cackled behind her, Sera flinched at the sound of its eerily feminine, foreboding tone. She turned around, only to be greeting with nothing.

000

When Madara came pick up the princess the next morning for breakfast he was surprised to find a very tired looking girl.

"Good morning." He managed to greet her as she rubbed her face, the skin under her eyes were dark and swollen with obvious exhaustion. "You don't look well."

She snorted. "That's not a nice thing to say a girl." She replied before retreating back into her room, leaving the door open so that she could still talk to Madara. "I didn't sleep very well I'm afraid."

The boy wanted her to elaborate further but before he could reply the princess was suddenly upon him. She quickly grabbed a cloak and, smiling, grabbed his arm. "Shall we go? I could eat a horse."

The boy let her hang onto his arm as he escorted them to the dining hall, his limb was held out awkwardly away from him. A pinched look graced his face. "Horses are expensive, why would you waste it by eating it? And how could a little girl like you eat an entire horse?"

The princess outright laughed, Madara was uncertain whether it was due to his reluctance to have anything to do with her or his reaction to her statement. "It's a figure of speech where I come from." She replied.

After a few more minutes of polite chatter they entered the dining hall. Madara and the princess were greeted with rows upon rows of feasting Uchiha soldiers seated at different long tables. Madara spotted his family dining at the top most table. The boy turned to face the princess, only to find her surveying the hall with an unwavering gaze. Her eyes held a calculating gleam as they soaked everything in like a dry sponge. He tugged on her arm, making her blink rapidly as she refocused his attention on him.

"Come with me, we are to sit with my family." He whispered, not wanting to draw the room's attention to them. He walked briskly over, making her resort to taking uneven, jerky strides to keep up with him. "Good morning Father."

The Clan Head withdrew from the conversation he was having with his wife to nod at his son before turning his attention to the princess, looking her up and down before he spoke. "We will need to get you some new clothes."

It was then that Madara realised the girl was wearing the same clothes as the day before, bar her outer robes which she must have found at the back of the wardrobe in her room. She nodded her agreement before he sat her down on an empty seat.

"You will also take to dining with us breakfast, lunch and dinner during your stay here." He added. "Your evenings will also be spent socialising in the hall."

His tone left no room for dispute or argument, the princess must have seen this too as she forced a "Yes, Uchiha-sama" from a stubborn mouth. Madara could see what his father was trying to do: forcing her to be out and about with company, not allowing he to be by herself for long and leaving her no choice but to form relationships with the Uchiha around her.

"Hey." He called, trying to get the princess's attention.

"What?"

"Why didn't you ask for more clothes last night?"

She shrugged. "It escaped my mind."

"My son's right, what would court say if they had heard you wore the same clothes two days in a row?"

Madara felt his cheeks flush red: his mother had taken it upon herself to interrupt their conversation and impart her own opinion.

But rather than being annoyed by the interruption as he expected, the princess smiled. She leaned in towards his mother, who was sitting opposite both Madara and the princess.

"I must confess to you that I although I have bathed since arriving here I have not had the chance to attain another pair of clothes. The robe I am wearing now is the same one I was wearing when I was taken over four days ago."

Madara's mother gasped. "Oh my! A great misdeed has been done to you. It would seem the men have no knowledge of how to treat a court lady."

"It's fine." The princess mollified, grinning all the while. "If I gave any weight to what the court thought about me, I would already be betrothed to a fat, old pig with hills of gold and jewels."

He found himself mortified as his mother started to laugh in an unladylike manner. "Oh dear, I think I shall grow to like you."

"My name is Sera, but I don't think I have been told your name."

"Well then Sera-hime." The way she said her name was much more affectionate compared what he and his father called her: a detached, impersonal 'princess'. "My name is Uchiha Mikoto."

The princess seemed surprised by this, she blinked and straightened up slightly. "Please to meet your acquaintance Uchiha-sama."

The Clan Matriarch smiled. "I have some kimonos and yukatas about your size that you can have, I had them ordered because someday I hope to bare a daughter. But I have so far had five sons." She looked down to slightly protruding stomach and placed a hand upon it. "I hope my next one is a girl."

"Then I hope so too Uchiha-sama." The princess added brightly, although her expression looked a little subdued.

Breakfast went on without much affair; the princess took to not saying much, looking around her as his mother, aunts, uncles and cousins chattered amongst themselves. Not feeling like talking, he took to observing her while food was served. She was surprisingly a picky eater when she had the choice, not like when they were travelling, when all they had to eat was what could be hunted. With a quick, dexterous hand she took to stripping the dishes of their meat while avoiding most of the vegetables and all of the seafood.

Soon breakfast had finished and the dishes had been reduced to mere dregs of sauce and crumbs. Madara got up, eager to resume the training that had been halted when he was in pursuit of the princess. He froze when his father stopped him with a hand to his shoulder as he whizzed past.

"Take the princess to the seamstress before you start training, so that the robes your mother so graciously gave her can altered to fit the girl properly." The Clan Head ordered.

The boy swallowed down an exasperated sigh before turning his gaze towards the girl in question, silently telling her to get up and come to him. She seemed to get the hint as she quickly rose from her seat and joined him.

There was no conversation instigated by the princess this time, her face had paled further and a tired frown weighed down her lips.

"Are you really okay?" He asked, concerned that she was falling ill.

She sighed. "Nothing a good night's sleep can't cure."

"I have a question for you." He started, thinking that in her current state she might be more willing to answer him. "When I first met you that night in the forest you said that you were waiting for someone; who were you waiting for?"

A moment of silenced passed before the princess broke out into a fit of laughter with a slightly deranged look in her eyes. "Your information gathering technique needs a little work."

"Are you going to answer me?"

"Nah. It spoils the fun of trying to figure it out yourself."

"Why did you want to meet up with them?"

She turned around to look at him, tilting her head before deciding to humour him a little. "I don't know."

He blinked. "You don't know?"

"Nope." The girl shook her head, popping the 'p'. "I only knew I had to meet up with them."

Madara's eyes narrowed as he considered her words; the rhythm in which they were delivered was broken, as if she had to stop and think carefully about the words she chose to speak. "You were told to met up with this someone weren't you?"

She gave no verbal response, and only a twitch of a smirk on an otherwise emotionless face gave her away.

His eyes narrowed further. Stopping dead in the corridor the boy took the princess by the shoulders, facing her towards him. He instinctively tightened his grip as he sensed himself nearing an answer. "Who was it that told you?"

The girl grinned, reminding Madara of that conniving little wench he first met under the cover of thick foilage, looking half wild with the moonlight dappled across her skin. He wondered how he could have forgotten what lay beneath her child-like exterior. She leaned in close to his ear, despite his arms holding her away from him, and whispered. "Not who your father will assume when you tell him about our little conversation, like the good, obedient, little dog you are." She leaned back to look him in the eyes once more. "It is perhaps understandable how you crave your father's affection and pride; he never paid any real attention to you before you started to advance your skills as a soldier. But here's a little piece of advice." She took his shoulders too and drew him in closer. "Your desire to be recognised by your father, to become the strongest warrior in your clan, will lead you to an enemy that you will not be able to overcome and when that day comes you will die for a dream which will never become reality."

If Madara could speak he would be screaming at the top of his lungs for her to stop talking, to cease uttering aloud what he had only admitted to himself subconsciously.

"Your father will never love you as a son." The princess watched as his face fell. "Just like he will never love your younger brothers. He will only ever love you as a tool to used, and when you are of no use anymore you will be discarded, thrown away to rot and be replaced by one of your brothers and then the whole cycle will start again."

He bit his lip hard enough to draw blood in order to stop a tormented moan passing through his mouth. Madara begged to the gods that what the princess had said was in no way true, that she was spouting lies in retaliation to his hard handed questioning. However, a part of him knew what she said was true. He started to remember the tentative days after his younger brother's death, of his wailing mother and his own tear stained face. He remembered the reaction of his father once the news broke, a memory he had repressed for (in hindsight) a good reason, he was vision of cold indifference to his son's death; having only a mere second's hesitation before he dipped his brush into his ink pot and carried on with his letters.

His grip on her shoulders loosened, allowing the princess to tear herself away from him.

"The seamstress is through that door." He pointed, shaking. "I assume you are capable of achieving that feat by yourself." An unstoppable anger coursed through him, surprisingly directed not at the princess but at his father. He turned and treaded angrily away from the girl, intent on exhausting his anger through a good, long training session.

"And you are wrong!" The boy halted before turning around and declaring to the princess, not being able to stop himself. "Whatever my father sends my way, regardless of what I am to him, I will overcome. No matter how strong my enemies are I will always defeat them!"

The girl laughed at his claim, but it sounded lifeless to his ears. "How arrogant." She stated, studying him properly for the first time since she had first met him. "But the enemy you assert you can defeat is maybe closer to home than you think."

"Was that a threat?" He asked, tone low and ominous.

"No, only a warning." She answered grinning. "A bit different from a threat as you already know, it's not as aggressive or physical."

"And what am I suppose to do with this...warning?"

She shrugged, it was an action that was soon going to infuriate him the more she did it. "Do what you want. You can treat my warning with whatever alarm you think it deserves: treat it as ruse to worry your family or start to panic and wail about the end of the Uchiha Clan at the hands of an undefeatable enemy, I do not care."

Madara turned back around and continued walking away, but as the boy neared the end of the hall he could have sworn he heard the princess cackle; but he wouldn't risk confirming it. If she was he wouldn't put it passed him to hit out at her in a rage.

000

Hey there again, just wanted to say a big thank you to all those who read, reviewed, favourited and followed this story. It means a lot.


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